Phoenix Wright: Turnabout for Better or for Worse
by mindpaper
Summary: This takes place sometime after GS3. Phoenix and Edgeworth take on a new case involving a seemingly coldcut murder but as always, there is more to it than meets the eye. Can the two ace lawyers crack the case AND stay out of harm's way?
1. Prologue

Turnabout for Better, Turnabout for Worse

Written by mindpaper

Note: This story takes place sometime after Gyakuten Saiban 3. References to the game (names, places, etc) are made in tandem with the English version of the game. This fanfiction contains a few spoilers, the existence of which I will make sure to specify before each chapter that contains them.

Also: This fanfiction tends towards the Phoenix and Miles pairing, so please take it with a grain of salt.

* * *

Prologue 

Miles Edgeworth slowly opened his eyes, and then closed them abruptly. He waited for the glaring lights to fade, the whiteness of the brightly lit hospital room to succumb to the darkness of his dreams. He opened them again. No, he was still here. He was still waiting here, in frustration, in this terrible daymare.

He straightened up and looked down at his watch. He had been asleep again. For exactly 14 minutes. He turned to look at the young, oddly-dressed girl beside him, slumped forward on her chair with her face in the bed. She had been asleep too—for exactly 4 hours and 23 minutes. She, like him, was waiting. Like him, she was stuck in this terrible daymare. Poor girl. She must be terrified. Maybe even almost as terrified as he was.

He turned to face the unconscious person in the bed. This soft-hearted moron—always getting mixed up in these things. These seemingly simple, but impossible situations that no one seemed to want to deal with. But of course, with him, these kinds of cases were the best. Of course, with him, no one was left behind. For him, truth was never impossible—only inevitable. And he was good at taking care of people. Of course the idiot took this case. There was no question as to why.

Edgeworth took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could imagine what he would say when he woke up. If he woke up. He'd try to get up, shocked, and look at him strongly with those serious blue eyes. _Edgeworth!__What happened_, he'd ask. _How_ _long have I been asleep? Don't tell me that the trial is over…Did my client lose?_ Abruptly, Edgeworth shook his head. No! He could not hope. He had to accept what was happening now. He may just disappear. _I have to be ready for that,_ thought Miles. _I have to be ready to let him go. If I am not ready… then…_

If yesterday was any indication, he was not ready. Images of the previous night flashed unbidden through his mind's eye, dizzying him. This person's weakened, desperate voice on the phone—a voice that truly frightened him. Seeing his crumpled body on the floor of the apartment. Finding nothing—no voice, no frowns, no lively gestures, no stinging words. No signs of life—nothing. It was terrifying.

He stood up, gripping the edges of the bed sheets so fiercely that the sleeping girl beside him stirred. He stood, listening to his own heart pounding in cacophony with the slow, consistent sound the heart monitor. He stood, wishing for a sign—anything—a greeting, a movement. But there was nothing—just that expressionless face covered with a respirator. This could not be—this was impossible. This rock—this solidity that had always been there, across from him, glaring at him with that unmistakable intensity. The same glare he had when he was a kid, when they were ten…

* * *

"Miles," Phoenix had said, glaring at him. "You're wrong!" 

"I am not wrong," he had retorted, casting a sidelong glance at his friend as they sat on their customary set of stairs, eating lunch. "I am merely being honest, and I only said that if one is deceased, then one ceases to live."

"Big words—don't use 'em," Larry had interjected, shoving a whole onigiri into his mouth. "Ah dowft unnersthdannd."

"Neither do I," said Phoenix miserably, "but you probably mean that when you die, you can't do stuff anymore."

Edgeworth rolled his eyes. "Exactly right, Wright." He flicked Phoenix on the forehead. "My father told me that. And he also told me that if I were to die, he wouldn't know what to do." He took a bite out of his sandwich, watching Phoenix fall deep into thought. Larry stole Phoenix's juice box.

After a while, Phoenix crossed his arms. "But that's why I think you're wrong. I don't think that's true."

Edgeworth scoffed. "What? Prove it. What evidence to you have to back up your point?"

Phoenix stared at him. "Stop talking so smart. Anyway, I think you should think about dead people the same way you think about alive people. If I was dead, Miles, you would know what to do, right? Would you give up your dreams about becoming a great law-man?"

Edgeworth glared back, startled. "N..No. Of course not! And that's law-YER, not law-man."

Phoenix grinned. "Good. Because I'd be mad at you and I wouldn't forgive you if you gave up being a lawman—lah-YER. And Larry, I wouldn't forgive you if you gave up on being.. um…"

"Myself?" Larry answered helpfully.

"Yeah. And when you die, I don't think you can't do stuff anymore. If I died, you guys would still remember me, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Edgeworth snatched the juice box from Larry. Phoenix smiled again. "Then that's enough! Dying and forgetting is stupid. I wouldn't give up just like that! You'd never forget me, so I would always be there."

Edgeworth looked down at his sandwich. "What nonsense, Wright. Everyone dies eventually, and then they're gone-- forever. You're such a hopeless idiot."

Larry had stolen the juice again. "Sluuuuurp. Yeah, what a idiot."

Phoenix shrugged and began looking for his juice box. "Maybe that's just… what you gotta be sometimes. An idiot."

* * *

_And look where you are now, you hopeless idiot, Edgeworth thought bitterly. Where did that steady and generous heart lead you to now? Are you just going to get up and get going again, like you promised?_ Reaching out suddenly, he hesitated, and then lightly touched that familiar face. Still feverish. He was still fighting. Stubbornly refusing to give up.

He sat back down and resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. He had to admit it-- he was terrified. Terrified that this infallible person in front of him was going to lose this battle. He had thought through all his options, and he only had one option left—to do the thing that this unconscious person did best.

He waited. And, feeling like a hopeless idiot, he hoped.

* * *

_That's the prologue to a long series of chapters, folks. Thanks for reading. I am an amateur at this, so any reviews are well appreciated. Please stay tuned for more updates._


	2. Chapter 1

Turnabout for Better, Turnabout for Worse

Chapter 1

Thursday, March 20, 10:30 am, Wright & Co. Offices

The air was damp from the gray clouds that were preventing the healthy film of light that always seemed to shine upon the Wright & Co. building. A young man with spiky black hair leaned casually against the window, looking out at the busy street from inside. He held a cellphone to his ear. But not for long.

"NIIIIIIIIIICK!!!!"

"…H…hey, Maya," the defense attorney managed to respond, his right ear ringing. He gingerly brought the phone back to his ear. "How're you—"

"It's been so long!! I thought you had forgotten about me!!"

Phoenix smiled grimly to himself. It had been a while, alright. Enough to make Maya's voice ten times louder than he remembered it being. "I think it's only been a few weeks since I last called…" he replied, checking the Steel Samurai calendar on his desk. "As always, you seem to have forgotten about that pesky thing known as timekeeping."

"Well, can you blame me?! Being away from the office for over 3 months—which, in other words, means 'being away from the real world'—takes its toll! I can hardly even remember what a hamburger tastes like anymore…" she sniffed audibly. "You should come visit me…"

"… and bring a hamburger with me," finished Phoenix. "is what you were going to say." He picked up a pile of papers and clicked a pen open.

"How could you," Maya sniffed louder. "You're taunting me with that concept. But I know you must be too busy."

Phoenix tapped the pen to his temple and sighed. It was true. Ever since last year, the number of clients asking for his services had been increasing. While it was somewhat reassuring to know that he was actually getting better at his job, he was also too often exhausted, and felt like he was appearing in court much more as a result. Even the various judges and prosecutors of his new district seemed to be getting friendly with him, offering him hot drinks during the recesses, which was indeed, very scary.

"I think I could make some time…" he said slowly. " I actually finished a case yesterday—"

"HOLD IT!" Maya roared gleefully, while Phoenix winced. "Nick! Did you win?!"

"Well, yeah…" Phoenix shrugged, thought quickly and pulled the phone away from his ear. Just in time. "Weeeee! I knew it!" came the faint cheer from the receiver.

"But that also means that hopefully, no one will call me today," Phoenix finished, after making sure Maya was done screeching. "And since it's a weekend, I think maybe I might be able to take the weekend off too…"

"Then you should come visit! Although…" Maya stopped to think. "It might be a bad weekend to come… I start another training program today that lasts for three days. I won't even be around to eat my hambu—I mean, see you."

"You could have mentioned that first… you know, before you said that I should come," Phoenix replied sourly. This was Maya's way—act first, think later.

"Sorry, Nick," she mumbled guiltily. "Oh, I know! I'll come visit you!"

"But—" Phoenix started. "Are you sure? You need to be around for your training, and—"

"No buts! Oh no, my instructor's coming! Gotta go! Get ready, Nick! Pearly and I will be coming in three days—"

The phone clicked off. Phoenix sighed and hung up his own phone. This was also Maya's way—act first, deal with the consequences later. He smiled to himself. It would be nice to see her and Pearly, her little sweetheart cousin. And of course, they would go out to the hamburger joint, and toast to her late, beloved sister and his eternal mentor, Mia Fey. It was something they did together, on a regular basis.

Rearranging the papers in his hand, his thoughts traveled to the events of the past year. He had met so many new people, and taken on many interesting cases. Cases that he never thought he would be dealing with… certainly not the kinds of cases he had learned about in law school. He had learned a lot there, but of course, as with most professions, he had learned the most in the field. He had taken cases dealing with a variety of subjects, but surprisingly most often, with murder.

The murder of models, actors and actresses, siblings, significant others, clients, friends, enemies… he had dealt with and seen them all. Many of them had been painful, and all of them had certainly been stressful. If there was one thing he had learned so far from his three years of lawyerdom, it was that no murder case could be taken too seriously.

Dealing with murder cases for three years, however, caused him to rethink things. While it was rewarding to help those in life-threatening need, he did need a break from the fast lane. So, a few months ago, he had moved to another district. It wasn't the same as having Gumshoe trailing after you like a lost puppy, or pinning the usual "OBJECTION!" on Winston Payne, but still… after closing the Fey case for good last year, he needed a rest from it all. Thus, he had been doing theft cases—at most—for a few months. It was nice… yet…

He shook his head a little and concentrated on the papers in front of him. He shouldn't be thinking this much about it—after all, today was almost a day off for him. All he had to do was finish the paperwork on the last case he had been working on. Studying the papers, he absentmindedly reached for his mug of Godot Blend #17.

RRRRRING!!!!

He nearly jumped as his office phone rang. Out of habit, he began to reach for it, but stopped himself an inch away from the receiver. Maybe… he shouldn't answer it today.

RRRRRING!!!!

He tugged nervously at his already loose tie. Should he? Another client meant one more meal on his table, but it also could potentially open a world of trouble for him and his sanity.

RRRRRING!!!!

He reached for it again. His hand was on the receiver when he heard Maya's cheerful voice ringing in his head. "We'll come in three days…"

He shook his head and folded his arms. Too bad for this client… they'll have to find someone else. He needed to take this weekend off.

RRRRING—"Hello, you've reached the office of Wright & Co. We are sorry--- we are not able to take your call at this time, but if you leave your name and contact information, we'll be sure to contact you back. Thank you."

Phoenix looked at his files again, trying to block the answering machine noises from his hearing. After hearing the first few words, however, he found that he could not. "H-hell—o, Mister Phoenix Wright. My name is Diamond, and I am calling to possibly request your services in a case."

Phoenix stared at the answering machine. Was this for real? This girl sounded really young—WAY too young to know what a law office even was.

"The case is a murder case," she started, "And the trial is tomorrow morning."

Alarm bells went off in Phoenix's head. _Danger, Will Robinson. Murder case… you swore off murder cases for a while. Don't listen_. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something else._ Puppies. Pretty Pink Princess. Uh… Tres Bien lunch special…?_ But nothing came to mind and stuck. He listened, miserably.

"I… I know you're a famous lawyer," came the voice again. Phoenix shrank a little in his chair. He had heard that tone of voice before—it was the same tone of voice that his clients used on the cases that he tended to accept. _Nooooo_, he thought, morosely. _It's going to be my day off. Day off. Day off…_ He took the pillow that he had handy by his desk-- ONLY to support his back, of course—and tried to cover his head with it.

However, the little girl's soft voice seemed to gaze into his very soul. "You really might be too busy, but I don't know what else to do," said the girl, plaintively. "I don't think the government will do a good job in court, and my sister… my sister isn't a criminal. I—I don't want her to die."

Phoenix slowly pulled the pillow from his head. Sisters, huh.

"She won't ask anyone for help. She even tried to put the guilty sentence on herself a couple times, but they kept telling her to wait until tomorrow. She won't listen to me, or any of my big brothers. Please," the girl was obviously crying a little now. "Please… help us…help—"

Phoenix sighed and picked up the phone. "Hello, Diamond," he replied. "Can you tell me more about the case?"

* * *

­ 

_Thanks for reading. Chapter 2 to come._

References to the game. When a valid point is brought up, or a point needs to be presented or pressed, the most famous phrases shouted are "Objection!", "Take that!", or "Hold it!" If you haven't played this game yet, PLAY IT!!!

Godot Blend #17. Another reference to the game—a character named Godot is well-known for drinking exorbitant amounts of coffee. He also roasts his own beans and brews at home, creating these special blends known as "Godot Blend # --."


	3. Chapter 2

Turnabout for Better, Turnabout for Worse

Spoiler warning: If you haven't played the second or third game, please be warned that there are things in this chapter that reveal events in those games.

* * *

Chapter 2

Thursday, March 20, 10:00 am

Governmental Law Building, Rm. 201

* * *

"Well, what exactly do you expect from me, Miles Edgeworth? Do you expect me to pick up your less-than-perfect record and work miracles with my own, absolutely perfect, sterling record?"

"I expect nothing less than the usual extraordinary prosecution, Francisca," Edgeworth replied coolly. "I just need you to watch my precinct for a week or so…"

"A truly foolish fool who foolishly fools the fools with your foolishness," sneered the fiercely beautiful laywer. She casually leaned on his office desk. "Am I to suspect you will spend the whole week gathering information? Or will there be more to the trip than you are revealing to me?"

"Not especially. I do hope to find all the files that I've stored with Criminal Affairs," he mused, crossing his arms. "I might have to dig quite deeply into their records. I'm afraid I placed them there quite some time ago, before I moved abroad."

"Your timing is a little less than perfect, then," she smiled dangerously at him. "I have just finished a case (in which I demolished my competition, of course) and the paperwork left will take me about a week to finish." She paused, putting a hand on his desk. "There is much work to be done, still, involving signatures and legal matters that even I, the great Francisca Von Karma, cannot complete so quickly."

Edgeworth huffed grimly. "As there always is."

Francisca fiddled none too gently with a paperweight on Edgeworth's desk. "I assume also, that you will be seeing my greatest enemy upon your visit?"

"I wasn't planning anything of the sort," he replied, frowning. "Wright has moved districts, so we would not even meet during fieldwork."

Suddenly, Francisca's eyes met Edgeworth's in an icy glare. "Little brother. When you meet with him, you will relay this message to him for me," she snarled.

Edgeworth sighed. What had he said just now? But of course, Francisca wasn't the type of person whose ambitions were stopped by the preferences of others.

"Tell him," she paused dramatically, extending her hand out to him. "That Francisca Von Karma looks forward to the day that she faces him in court, to utterly defeat him—quickly, and of course, flawlessly."

"Trust me," Edgeworth replied tiredly, "If you even were to 'defeat' Wright in court, it would not be quick, or flawless." He stole a quick glance at her infuriated face. "You seem to conveniently forget that he has defeated you many times already."

Francisca opened her mouth to retort, but closed it after some thought. "Just as he has defeated you, Sir 'Genius' Prosecutor, countless times as well," she smirked. "In contrast, my perfect win record has only been smeared slightly. Which will change, "she noted, crushing the paperweight in her fist, "the next time I see that foolishly foolish fool."

Edgeworth dully noted the demolished paperweight, which had been crushed completely out of shape. It happened a lot. "I will mention it to him if, by some cruel chance of fate, I were to meet him in the field. But I cannot guarantee it—I will not be seeking anyone out while I am there."

Francisca smiled at him again, only this time, it was a little mysterious as well as dangerous. "Of course you will not," she repeated softly. "I understand that full well. And I bid you adieu—contact me upon the day you will depart." And with that, she turned on a heel and stalked out the door.

Edgeworth watched her leave with a certain fondness. It had only been a couple years since she had entered his circle of current affiliates, but he had known Francisca for most of his lifetime, as they had both studied prosecution under her father, Manfred Von Karma. Ever since the young lady prosecutor began working outside Germany's judicial system, she had changed—for the better, he hoped. It was not always apparent to the typical eye, but he had noticed that her interests had expanded—slightly—past her obsession with her perfect win record. Just like his own had expanded over the past few years.

He frowned again, feeling cranky. He hated to admit it—but he suspected that it was because of the way court procedure had changed for him. Finding the truth—despite how things seemed—was what was important. He did not care if he lost in court-- if he knew the truth was uncovered, and that justice had been served, all was well. All because of that moron—rookie defense attorney, his childhood friend, and everyone's rival- Wright.

He began collecting papers on his desk, alphabetizing them absentmindedly. He hoped that he wouldn't see him when he returned to his home country for the week. Because with him, something "interesting" was always bound to happen. And he did not feel as though he wanted anything "interesting" to happen this time around.

Checking his Jammin' Ninja calendar on the wall, he recalled the last time he had returned. It had been interesting, all right. Wright had somehow managed to get sick on the day of a trial, causing chaos all around. He had also somehow been beguiled into becoming a defense attorney for a day. What utter nonsense. That person always brought mayhem, wherever he went. In the end, no one seemed to mind, however. In fact, that was the reason Wright had friends in so many places. That, and he idiotically wore his heart on his sleeve.

_At any rate_, he thought, that _case was half a year ago_. He sat down in his chair and sighed. He hoped that times had changed since then. He hoped that everything was ordinary, and nothing was extraordinary.

Either that—or he secretly hoped that nothing had changed at all.

* * *

Phoenix approached the steps of the Criminal Affairs Department hesitantly, feeling a variety of feelings. One- remorse that he took the case, even though he was supposed to be enjoying a relaxing weekend. Two- remorse that he case was a murder case. Three- remorse that he had to return to his original district to deal with it.

Well, maybe the variety was the nature of the remorse—it was still just remorse.

He stepped into the office, smelling the familiar scents of instant noodles and printer ink. He looked around, hoping that no one would recognize him, and started sneaking over towards the detention center.

"H-HEY!!! YOU!!!"

Phoenix froze, covering his face with his briefcase. A tall, broad-shouldered, and unfortunate-looking man strode over with a confidence born of indifference. He wore a tattered coat and a pencil was tucked behind his left ear. "Look, pal, I don't know who you are, but citizens aren't allowed here, alright? This here's the—" he stopped mid-sentence, peering curiously at the briefcase. "F…feenicks right and coh," he read slowly. "That sounds so… familiar somehow. Hold on a sec, pal, I gotta think about this one," and with that, he began tapping his head and muttering to himself.

Phoenix brought the suitcase away from his face. "H-hey, detective, don't hurt yourself. It's me, Phoenix. Remember?"

The good detective stared at him, and, like slow-moving traffic, recognition began to dawn on his battered face. "….oh…OH YEAH, PAL! HEY!!" He clapped him hard on the back. "It's you!! It's been what, a few months since I've seen you—" he stopped suddenly, his expression changing to stern anger. "Where have you BEEN, pal?! The homicide cases have been pouring in, but we got no one but well-to-do, unexciting and in—incopni—not-smart defense attorneys backing us up!"

"Sorry, Gumshoe…" Phoenix mumbled guiltily. "It's just… I had been doing so much dealing with homicide that I thought I might be losing it. So…"

Gumshoe huffed apologetically. "I know, I know. I remember that last case you were in—man, that was a doozy. But still, crime never stops, ya know," he wrinkled his eyebrows righteously. "In fact, just a few days ago we got a new homicide case, pal. Apparently they got someone from outside to defend, which is a miracle in itself."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. "Hm. Why is it a miracle, now?"

Gumshoe looked around, and leaned in close to whisper. "It's a homicide case from the Presidio. A big gang fight. Only someone crazy would get involved in that—usually the gov just lets them slip right through their fingers because they're too afraid to deal with it."

"….o…oh, I see," Phoenix replied in a small voice. He suddenly had that familiar sinking feeling in his stomach. Gumshoe looked over at the detention center. "They're here, right now, pal. The three people involved—the defendant, her younger sister, and the best friend of the deceased." He suddenly whipped his head around, a look of horror on his face. "Don't tell me…" he choked out. "Don't tell me… that's why you're here, pal?"

"M…maybe." Phoenix tried to sound as tough as he could, but it came out more like a gruff whimper. "She didn't tell me—that useful little fact."

Gumshoe slapped a hand to his forehead. "Geez, pal. Um… hey, listen," he put a hand on his shoulder, his expression serious. "These guys… they're not your average criminals. They see this stuff everyday, so there's no way you'll be able to see through them. Try to avoid anything that could make them mad," he advised, thinking hard. "And take their testimonies word for word. They can't hold anything against you then." He gave him an extra shake. "And DON'T question them too much, pal. Let them do the talking, or else, they'll think you want something from them." Gumshoe shook his head and sighed. "I don't know what else to tell you…"

"Th-thanks, detective," Phoenix replied, giving him a weak smile. This was why Gumshoe was the best detective around—he did his job well, and while he might be a little on the dull side-- he had a huge heart. "I appreciate your advice."

"Well, I gotta go finish up some investigation. But look, pal, if anything happens while you're here," Gumshoe warned, looking over at the detention center. "Just holler. Holler like a lost kid in a playground."

_That's probably what I'll sound like, too_, thought Phoenix grimly. As he watched Gumshoe stomp away, his gaze drifted to the door of the detention center, shining dully with that warm, dimly-lit haze. As always, he felt nervous—a little more than usual, due to the nature of the defendant that he just learned from the good detective—but even more so because of the influence and power he held as a defense attorney. Someone's life was in his hands. A defendant that he could choose to believe in or not. He sighed heavily. This is why he had decided to take a break from homicide in the first place—there was always too much to worry about.

Shaking the morbid thoughts from his mind, he adjusted his tie, stood up straighter, and took a deep breath. _Don't worry. Chase the truth, and things will always work themselves out. Don't be afraid—be strong for those who need strength._ He thought of his previous clients, and the happy lives they led after his successful defenses. Their second chances at living. If he was weak for even a moment, he could deprive them of their happiness. He had to be strong for them.

His heart continued to beat rapidly. It was no good—as always, he was still nervous. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. A smiling image of his eternal mentor, Mia Fey, flashed briefly in his mind.

_I know you can do it, Phoenix._

Although his heart still thumped frantically, he reopened his eyes with resolve. He pushed down the lump of fear rising in his chest, and felt a refreshing wave of determination wash over him.

_I won't let you down, Chief_. _I promise._

* * *

Hey y'all, thanks for reading. Chapter 3 to come.

Per a suggestion, I'm going to try to include more in each chapter (I got a comment that the chapters were too short). I had to agree, after I read it over.

mindpaper

Copyright CAPCOM. Phoenix Wright and all included characters and affiliations owned by CAPCOM.


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